


Caged

by orphan_account



Series: A Caged Bird [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha Rick, Alpha!Daryl, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, F/M, Guns, M/M, Merle is a bastage, Omega Verse, Omegaverse, So is Ed, Swords, but some omegas, etc. - Freeform, shifting people, usually just alphas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:02:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6310690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Daryl is out hunting, he comes across an alpha girl named Jackson, whose only weapons seem to be two long, silver swords. But he can't figure out why she hides her scent with lavender when he knows she's an alpha. One day, it starts raining, and the tentative friendship he's built with her crumbles under the weight of her secrets as the rain exposes her true scent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just so y'all know, this fic is going to be split into three parts in a series: Caged, Broken, and Freed. Also, the swords aren't her only weapon. She also has these epic guns-- I have links in the end notes to pictures. The guns are at her house, back in Shoshone, Idaho, and come in later during Broken. This is actually an extension of a work I did on Wattpad, (now deleted), so if it seems familiar, you know why. Enjoy! : )  
> Update: wrote this forever ago, orphaned it, reposted/reclaimed it

A free bird leaps 

on the back of the wind

and floats downstream

till the current ends

he dips his wing

in the orange sun rays

and dares to claim the sky.

The owl dips and twirls through the orange sunrise, cooeing softly as I sip my tea. The scent of smoke from the quarry group near me is twined with the scent of my lavender mint tea. I toss back the last aromatic mouthful and stand, pulling off my loose navy blue hoodie and tossing it on my sleeping bag inside the dark green tent that is my new home. Then I dab on some lavender oil to block my scent, sling my swords in their scabbards over my back and shift, my sensitive feline nose already picking out the different prey scents near me. There's a racoon in a tree near me and I consider it briefly before moving on. Racoon is only good covered in seasonings and sewn in its skin and cooked till it's black. I stalk out of the clearing.  
~  
The alpha wolf is good. His lean, brown body has been trailing me for a good hour now, and his only mistake was his scent. I can tell he's rolled in ferns recently, judging by the half obscured scent, but a panther has better olfactory senses than a wolf. I've got the trail of a yearling buck, and he's got the trail of me. I could take him in a fair fight if I had to, so I'm not worried. But he should be. If he attacks me, he'll regret it. But I don't think he'll attack. He saw me snag a squirrel right off a tree, so he's got a pretty good idea of how fast I can move. Besides, he's from the quarry group. From what I've heard from spying, deputy dickhead'l whup his ass if he attacks me. So I'm just trailing the yearling. We've been walking for another mile when suddenly, the alpha lifts his head and sniffs, looking uneasy. I can smell it too. There's at least three walkers right in the clearing where my deer should be. Shit. I take a deep breath, and slide into the clearing. None of the walkers take notice as I shift to human form and pull out one of my swords. I easily lop the head off one, shishkabobing both the others in one stab. I wipe my blade off ones jacket and relieve another of a pack of cigarettes, looking down at the ravaged body of my deer as I light the least gory one in the pack. Shit. At least I had that squirrel. Unfortunately, the alpha chooses this moment to to step into the clearing. I flip the cig to the ground and stomp it out with one steel toed leather combat boot, still not turning around. Something lands next to my foot, and I look down to see a big, brown jackrabbit with one neat bite to the skull. "Thought it'd only be 'propriet, seein' as them fuckers got to yer' meal b'fore you cud." A voice drawls out behind me. I smirk, turning around. "What, don't think i can find another? After goin' hungry fur two days in a row? Hell, that squirrel was a feast compared to my herbal remedies." He coffs "On'y reasnyou got that thing s'cuz it was half starved too." I grin, tying the jackrabbit by the ears onto my belt. "At least it was som'm. Since you haven't eaten yet, I'm gonna assume this is yur only prey today. Wanna hunt together? M'names Jackson." I look at the crossbow on his back. At least he had the sense to come down here with something other than a couple swords, when the world went to shit. He regards me for a second, then says, "m'names Daryl. Let's hunt." I grin, and shift. Finally, someone to talk to. It's been a lonely few weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions for future events?

Daryl is.. strange, to say the least. From what I know about him from watching the group, he's a loner. He really only socializes with his brother, but he helps to provide for the group well enough. (Because squirrels are really a pageant winning food, Daryl.) So what confuses me is why we're hunting together, I mean, seriously? Am I just taking everything I know about him slapped in my face? I suppose. Anyways, it's been a couple weeks since we started hunting together, and while I'm not hungry anymore, Daryl is bringing back a lot more meat for the quarry group.  
...

"You wanna meet th' group?" Daryl inquires. I shake my head. "Nah, prolly not. Sides, 'nother alpha in that group, asshat will blow up. I mean Shane." Daryl is trying not to crack a smile, I can tell. His eyes are squinting, lips twitching. Unfortunatly, I know from experience that he won't. Smile, I mean. So, uncharacteristically of me, I let it go. We're in a sandy little cove, a hidden inlet of the lake that occupies the quarry. Daryl is shirtless (wolf whistle), and I'm in a tank top and short shorts. It's too much work the get undressed to enjoy the sun. Daryl scoffs. I splay myself backwards over a patch of Irish moss, vaguely surprised the stuff has lasted this long in the heat. I'm not complaining, though. The sun plays across our faces as he plops down across from me. We sit there in silence for a while. "We're all goin' on a run t'morrow. To th' city." A noncommital sigh. "You c'n follow 'long, outa sight. If ya want." I shrug. "P'raps" He scoffs, "That's 's good as a no, I c'n tell." Some more silence, before he speaks again. "Some ol' man an' an asian kid, 'mega, I think, came inta' th' group las' week, th' kid's gone on a buncha runs already, but all on 'is own. Dale 'n Glenn. It's th' asian kid 'oos leadin this run." I sit up quickly. "Glenn Rhee? That's who I came down here for in the first place, you know how I said I left my pack in Idaho 'fore the shit went down? That's my bondmate." (AN: a bondmate is a non sexual mate, the bond is purely functional and between close freinds. An actual mating will be explained later.) He sits up too. "Really? Tha's sum luck if ah ever heard sum." I laugh. "You think? I'll follow behind, out of sight." He almost grins, but catches himself. "Good, meet you in the departmen' buildin'"

**Author's Note:**

> Handgun: http://www.slickguns.com/product/eaa-witness-p-full-size-semi-automatic-handgun-40-sw-45-barrel-15-rounds-black-polymer-grips
> 
> Rifle: http://www.armslist.com/posts/317180/fayetteville-north-carolina-rifles-for-sale--mossberg-270-win
> 
> Swords: http://www.bornofhope.com/Images/Warfare/ElfSwords.jpg


End file.
